You Still Look the Way You Used To
by WritingIsLoveAndLife
Summary: Jude is married to Noah with two adopted sons. His ex Connor is now a superstar pitcher with a playboy image that is back in San Diego after a trade. Connor seeks out Jude for closure and as the two talk things out, long dormant feelings begin to reawaken, leaving Jude with an impossible decision between two different men and two very different lives.
1. Prologue

**You Still Look the Way You Used To**

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**

* * *

 **AN:** I'm back with more new _The Fosters_ story ideas! I hope you all enjoy them. The next chapters of all of my other stories will be up soon, I promise! I just wanted to put these ideas down so I don't forget them and so that I can give you all some more new content while I'm working on the new chapters for my existing stories.

This story will take place 10 years into the future and will feature Jude, Connor and Noah heavily. We start with a Jude x Noah pairing before progressing towards a Jude x Connor endgame.

Basically, Connor is now a professional baseball player who comes back to San Diego after being traded, and seeks out Jude for closure. Jude is now married to Noah with 2 adopted teenage children and as he and Connor talk things through, long dormant feelings bubble dangerously close to the surface, leaving Jude with an impossible choice between two men and two very different lives. It goes without saying that there will be some angst.

As with all of my stories, the title for this one comes from a song. The song is called I Should've Followed You Home by Agnetha Faltskog featuring Gary Barlow. It's a great song, and a really beautiful duet; so feel free to check it out, if you're interested.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Peter Paige and Bradley Bredeweg created _The Fosters._ I claim absolutely no ownership of the series or its characters. I merely respect the series, and wish to pay tribute to it, while continuing to sharpen my writing skills. The only characters I do claim ownership of are my OC's: Clayton Adams-Foster and Kyle Adams-Foster, as well as any further OC's I introduce in the future.

* * *

 **Prologue**

The dinner table at the Adams-Foster household is always lively, and tonight is absolutely no exception.

On one side of our island/table, there is my husband Noah and I. Noah and I are 24 and have been married for 5 years after dating since we were 14. He is a mechanic, and I am a teacher, having followed in the footsteps of one of my Moms.

On the other side of the island, gesturing very animatedly as they describe their respective days, are our two adopted children: 17-year-old Clayton and 14-year-old Kyle, a pair of brothers who found their way to us three years ago. The two of them have the same green eyes, but Clayton has jet-black hair, whereas Kyle's hair is platinum blond.

Noah and I listen to our kids intently. Clayton tells us about some gig his band has booked, and how his rehearsal went today, whereas Kyle talks about how his sports went. He swims and plays football, soccer and baseball for the school teams.

Noah and I are so proud of them, and the fine young men that they've grown into. They've come a long way from when we first met them. Clayton, at age 14, was the de facto parent, much like how Callie was essentially my parent when we were in the system. Kyle, at age 11, followed his brother anywhere and had severe separation anxiety. He talked only in whispers to Clayton and it was months before we heard his voice.

He reminded me so much of myself when I slipped into selective mutism. Noah had some trouble adjusting to that, but I knew that everything would work out eventually if we simply gave Kyle time.

Now, he can't stop talking. He can go on for hours about sports or just about anything of interest. He reminds me so much of Connor in that way.

Unintentionally, I breathe out a sigh. It's been 10 years since the two of us broke up, and I still wonder about him. I know he plays baseball from seeing game highlights on ESPN, but that's my only remaining link to him. He'll always be my first love, my first real friend, and I'll always cherish the memories he and I share, but he made his choices and I made mine.

Besides it's been too long. We've both moved on, and he's successful and out and happy, enjoying the perks of being a star ballplayer and a trailblazer. He's got a playboy bachelor kind of image, always with some guy hanging off his arm at whatever red carpet event or gala dinner he attends.

It's part of the reason I haven't made an effort to reconnect at all. We're in two completely different places in life. I'm happily married, a father of two, and a teacher that is respected by both his students and fellow faculty.

What was once a perfect fit has, over time, become like fitting a square block into a circular hole. It won't work no matter how many times you try.

A trio of voices and curious looks snaps me back to reality. My husband looks at me worriedly. "You alright, babe?" he asks.

I inhale and exhale, before fixing him with a soft smile and cupping his cheek. "Yeah, babe, I'm good. Just reminiscing."

He puts an arm around my shoulders and I burrow into him as much as I can without falling out of my seat.

My sons' look between each other, then back at Noah and I. "Should we go?" they ask, chorusing with each other.

I shake my head. "It's okay," I inform them. "Memory lane isn't a happy place for me a lot of the time."

They nod understandingly. They were in the system. Our stories are different, but every foster kid, past and current, has a fundamental understanding of each other.

Dinner is finished in relative silence. Clayton heads into his room to record vocals on his computer for some freshly-written tracks, while Kyle heads outside to kick a soccer ball around.

Noah and I tackle the dishes before he takes my hand and leads me into the den, where we settle in to watch television. There's nothing on, so for the hell of it, the two of us decide to put on ESPN, watching a sports documentary on some athlete that we don't even know.

"How much do you want to bet that Kyle would know who this is?" Noah asks.

I laugh. "I know he would. The first rule of betting, my dear husband, is never make a bet you know you're going to lose…"

"Fair enough," Noah concedes, turning his eyes back toward the screen. I curl into him and focus on the narrator and the images flashing by in a montage, when suddenly…

"We interrupt this regularly scheduled programming for some breaking news. In baseball, pitcher Connor Stevens has been traded from Los Angeles to San Diego for prospects. Stevens, 24, finished 2nd in Cy Young Award voting last season and gives San Diego a bona fide ace for the first time in many years. With more on the deal, here is our team of baseball insiders…"

The screen cuts to a bunch of suited muscleheads who proceed to discuss Connor's stats and the prospects San Diego would be giving up. I'm still in shock, barely processing it all. Noah squeezes my hand reassuringly.

I smile at him gratefully, feeling at ease. That serenity doesn't last long however…

"Joining us live on the phone, please welcome new San Diego pitcher, Connor Stevens! Connor, thank you for joining us…"

For a moment, it's so silent that you could hear a pin drop in that studio. Then an all too familiar voice fills my ears for the first time since we broke up over a video call 10 years ago.

"Hi. Thank you for having me."

I squeeze Noah's hand in a vice grip. As Connor gives his answers, he sounds every bit the professional baseball player his is. He talks about wanting to win a championship in San Diego and what a great ballclub it is. He talks about how he looks forward to the new challenge, how he'll accept any role and respect the roles of everyone already there, how grateful he is that he didn't have to move too far, how excited he is to be coming home to San Diego after so long away.

Then he says something that catches both of us off guard.

"As pleasant as this has been, I'm reaching my destination very shortly, so I'll have to let you go."

"You're almost in San Diego?" the lead analyst asks.

"No," Connor answers. "I'm already in San Diego. I have a little bit of unfinished business to attend to and then I'm booking myself into a hotel…"

"Unfinished business?" the anchor's probe, and I could swear 6 suited vultures replaced the human beings on the screen, circling around Connor and waiting for an explanation that they have no right to get.

I can't help the bile that rises in my throat.

I hear Connor sigh on his end of the line. "Let's just say, there's one person in all of San Diego that I have unfinished business with. That person knows who they are, but you don't and, God willing, you never will. Now, if you excuse me, I've arrived."

The line goes dead, leaving the analysts with mouths agate and eyes wide.

Noah turns to me. "You don't think…?"

I don't get a reply out before there's a knock on the front door.

I go rigid. This cannot be happening. My ex-boyfriend from 10 years ago could not have just gone live on ESPN and broadcast to all of America that he has unfinished business with someone in San Diego and then show up at my door.

I turn to my husband. "Pinch me… this cannot be happening. I must be dreaming. My ex did not just do that, and there wasn't just a knock on our door, right?"

Noah looks sober, and that alone provides me my answer. This is all too real, unfortunately…

I stand on stiff legs and make my way to the front door from the den. Pulling it open, I'm greeted by a soft smile, tousled blond hair and brilliant hazel eyes.

"Hey, Jude…"

* * *

 **AN #2:** So there you have the prologue of the story! What did you all think? I've been on quite a roll with new ideas lately, but rest assured I haven't forgotten my existing stories, and new chapters of them are coming soon. I just wanted to write down a few more ideas and post them so I don't forget about them, and so you all have something more to read while I work on the new chapters of my existing works. I'll probably post a few more new ideas very soon too!

Until next time,

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**


	2. Chapter 1

**You Still Look the Way You Used To**

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**

* * *

 **AN:** I'm back with the second chapter of this story! In this, we'll see the story really start rolling, so I hope you enjoy it!

I've had three reviews posted to the prologue since I've published it, so I'll go ahead and answer those now:

 **Arriana Angles 15:** I'm so glad that you love it already, and I hope you'll continue to love it. The wait for the next update is over!

Thank you for the review!

 **Jude's Warpaint:** First off, can I just tell you how perfect your penname is? I love it. Thank you so much for reading the prologue and thinking it was a great beginning for the story. Opinions like that are always nice to hear. The wait for the next update is over! I hope you enjoy this first full chapter and the rest of the story!

Thank you for taking the time to review!

 **Future Heiress:** I'm so glad to hear that! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story as well.

Thank you for the review!

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Peter Paige and Bradley Bredeweg created _The Fosters_. I claim absolutely no ownership of the series or its characters. I merely respect the series, and wish to pay tribute to it, while continuing to sharpen my writing skills. The only characters I do claim ownership of are my OC's: Clayton Adams-Foster and Kyle Adams-Foster, as well as any further OC's I wish to insert into this story in the future.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

As I navigate through the San Diego streets on route to Jude's house, which I was able to find the address for in a phone book, I know that this could be an absolutely terrible idea. It's been 10 years since we broke up and we haven't spoken since.

In all those years though, I've never forgotten him and, I never will. He made such an indelible impression on my life, and I don't think he ever realized it. He was "Just Jude" as he always said, but just by being himself, he made everyone else around him a better person.

He's a remarkable human being, and I'm certain 10 years hasn't changed that. I just hope to God that he won't automatically slam the door in my face. Given the sudden nature of my arrival, that's very much a possibility.

' _No, Connor!'_ I scold myself. _'Don't think like that! After all, this is JUDE we're talking about. He'd never do that.'_

I repeat that like a mantra, but it fails to have the desired effect. The more I stew in my own terror (and I can freely admit to being terrified), the more I realize that Jude very well _could_ do that for all I know.

I'm about to pull my hair physically out of my head in anxiety when a call from my agent rings through. I push the button on my steering wheel that's synced with my Bluetooth and the call connects.

"Hello?" I ask.

My agent's voice comes over the line. "Connor, the news just broke. ESPN wants to do an interview with you. If I give you the studio number, will you call?"

"Sure!" I agree amiably. "But don't they have something on right now?"

"You're a baseball star getting traded in-state as part of a blockbuster deal. Screw regularly-scheduled programming."

"True enough," I concur. And it isn't an ego thing. It's not like I know I'm the biggest deal in sports and everyone should bow down to me. I'm not like that at all, in fact, I don't even consider myself all that good.

But I've come to accept that statistics and results dictate how you're seen in sports, and how you personally see yourself is irrelevant. And my statistics, the results I produce on that mound? It makes me top-tier in the sports world, even if I refuse to view myself like that.

I snap back to reality, hearing my agent rattle off the number for me to call. I listen closely, and once he's hung up, I dial the number I was given.

"ESPN Studios," an overly chipper female voice greets me after the first ring. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Connor Stevens," I tell her. "My agent gave me this number, told me that your baseball guys wanted to talk to me about the trade."

I can hear her rifling through some things, and mumbling my surname like a broken record before she comes back on the line. "You really weren't screwing with me," she says, sounding relieved. "You have no idea how many people try to call in and pretend to be a sports celebrity just to get on air."

"I'd imagine…" I say tightly. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm a little tight on time, if you catch my drift."

"Certainly!" she exclaims. "I'll patch you through right away!"

"Thank you, Ma'am," I say politely.

"It's Katrina," the receptionist responds.

"Thank you, Katrina," I amend.

"You're welcome!" she says. "Have a lovely evening!"

"You too," I say, before I hear a dull, annoying melody in my ears. I hate being on hold.

"Hello?" a male voice greets me this time.

"Hi, this is Connor Stevens," I introduce myself. "My agent told me you wanted an interview with me about the trade?"

"Absolutely!" the analyst says quickly.

I can hear rustling in the background, before the anchor makes their introduction and starts talking about the trade. I tune most of it out, until I hear my cue…

"Joining us live on the phone, please welcome, new San Diego pitcher, Connor Stevens. Connor, thank you for joining us!"

"Hi. Thank you for having me," I respond.

The interview is pretty standard. In other words, it isn't anything I haven't been asked before. They ask me what my ultimate goal is from being in San Diego (winning the World Series obviously), if I think it's a good club (an automatic yes, no matter what I think personally) if I'm looking forward to a new challenge (Yes, a sincere one this time), whether I'll respect existing players and roles (another yes) and how it feels to be coming home after a long time away.

"It feels good, honestly," I admit. "LA was my home for 10 years, but I was born in San Diego and spent the first 14 years of my life there. There are a lot of memories and a lot of people that I used to know that still live in the area, so it'll nice to be home and see how things are different and what has stayed the same. Who has come, who has gone, and what everyone has been up to."

I look to my GPS and see that I'm nearing Jude's home. The analyst is talking, but I cut them off.

"As pleasant as this has been, I'm reaching my destination shortly, so I'll have to let you go."

"You're almost in San Diego?" one of the anchor's asks.

"No," I say, shaking my head even though I know they can't see that. "I'm already in San Diego. I have a bit of unfinished business to attend to, and then I'm checking myself into a hotel."

"Unfinished business?" the voices over the line chorus in interest.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Let's just say, there's one person in all of San Diego that I have unfinished business with. That person knows who they are, but you don't, and God willing, you never will."

Before they can respond, I hang up and park my car in the driveway of Jude's home. I grasp the door handle shakily as I open it and step out into the evening air.

I pull my jacket tighter to my body as I walk up to the porch and rap on the door.

In barely any time at all, the door swings wide and reveals the face of a man that I haven't seen since he was but a teen.

"Hey Jude…" I say carefully.

"Connor…" he whispers quietly, eyes wide.

I smile softly at him. "It's been a long time," I venture.

He gives a stiff nod. "It has."

I shiver as the wind blows, and Jude looks at me sympathetically.

"Would you like to come in?" he offers.

I nod, and he steps aside to let me in. I shrug out of my jacket, which he promptly hangs up in the closet.

I see a guy come up behind him and watch as he wraps his arms around Jude's waist, placing a light kiss to his pulse point.

I feel a pang in my stomach. Of jealousy, or longing, or something else entirely, I'm not quite sure.

The guy hugging Jude looks to me, and his eyes widen. He pries himself off of Jude, and I can't stop the breath of relief that escapes me.

The guy's eyes narrow, and Jude looks uncomfortable.

"I'm Noah," the guy introduces. "I'm Jude's husband."

"Connor Stevens," I reply, and I extend my hand. "It's nice to meet you," I lie through my teeth.

Jude glances worriedly between the two of us. There's a palpable tension in the air between us. Having enough, he heaves a sigh and breaks the silence.

"Would you like a drink, Connor?" he asks. "We can sit and talk and things."

"And things?" Noah growls.

"Not like that!" Jude corrects quickly.

Noah huffs, but nods, and I take that as my cue to respond.

"Yes, please," I say. "That'd be lovely. It's been a horrendous drive."

"Well, alright then," Jude says with finality and beckons me to follow him and Noah into the kitchen. Noah's arm is wrapped tightly, possessively, around Jude's waist.

I feel another flare in my stomach, which I easily suppress.

After all it's been 10 years. I'm over Jude.

Aren't I?

* * *

 **AN #2:** I don't know, Connor. Are you over Jude? What did everything think of this first official chapter for the story? Let me know if you have any ideas or things you'd like to see, and I'll do the best I can to accommodate.

Until next time,

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**


	3. Chapter 2

**You Still Look the Way You Used To**

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**

* * *

 **AN:** I'm finally back with a new chapter of this story! Life was crazy busy for a long while, but its settling down and giving me more time to write, so that's a good thing.

I've had three reviews on the last chapter since I posted it, so I'll go ahead and answer those now:

 **Future Heiress:** It makes me so happy to hear you say that! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story. Thank you for the review, I appreciate it!

 **Aphass:** I'm so glad you like it so far! Connor meeting Clayton and Kyle will definitely be interesting, to say the least. I won't give anything away though, so I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story! Thank you for the review.

 **Guest:** I must thank you for expressing that opinion! I'm very happy to hear that you love this story. I'll definitely be keeping all of my stories going, so don't you worry. I agree that it will be very interesting to see how Connor moves in on Jude. Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Peter Paige and Bradley Bredeweg created _The Fosters._ I claim no ownership of the series, or its characters. I merely respect the series and wish to pay tribute to it, while continuing to sharpen my writing skills. The only characters I claim ownership of are my OC's: Clayton Adams-Foster and Kyle Adams-Foster, as well as any further OC's I wish to introduce in the future.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Not a word has been spoken since my husband, my ex, and I sat around the island in the kitchen. The tension is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Connor and Noah have not stopped glaring at each other since the second we sat down. I've taken to just quietly sipping my tea.

When it becomes completely apparent that neither of them is going to say anything, I break the silence.

"It's nice to see you again, Connor," I tell him. "You've done well for yourself."

Connor finally tears his gaze away from my husband and smiles at me. "Thank you, Jude. It's nice to see you again, too. To be honest, I thought you would slam the door in my face just now."

"I wish he had…" Noah grumbles quietly, but I hear it anyway.

I lean over until my breath ghosts his ear. "Don't be rude," I whisper sharply. "You're lucky he didn't hear that."

"Sorry," he says. "I'm just tense."

"And I'm not?" I argue. "Fuck, my ex just appeared out of nowhere after 10 years, and the last time I saw him was over a video call when we broke up. If that's not tense and awkward circumstances, I don't know what is."

"You're right," he says, and his links his hand with mine, squeezing tightly.

I take a deep breath before turning back to Connor. "You know me better than that, I'd like to think. We may have broken up, and not kept in contact, but I'll always care for you. We have too much history and too many memories for me not to, even if I broke your heart."

"And I'll always care for you, too," Connor says sincerely. "But I don't want you to blame yourself for our breakup. It takes two, and I made mistakes too."

I nod in agreement, and silence settles over the room like a blanket. It's decidedly less awkward this time around, but it's still somewhat uncomfortable.

This time, our kids break the silence. Clayton comes into the kitchen.

"Hey Dads, whose car is in the driveway?" he questions.

"Clayton, this is—" I start, only to be cut off.

"Connor Stevens!" Kyle exclaims excitedly, as he enters the fray, obviously having finished kicking his soccer ball outside.

Connor heaves out a sigh, and looks up to smile at Kyle. "Yeah, that's right. You a fan?"

"Am I ever!" Kyle enthuses, before he pauses, clearly confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Kids, sit down," I tell them, firmly. "You'll get answers soon enough."

They do as requested, and I take a few deep breaths before I look to both of them. "Do you remember when I told you the story of my time in foster care?" I ask.

They nod. They were clearly not expecting my association with Connor to have anything to do with my past in the system.

"Well… when I first came to Grandma Stef and Grandma Lena's house, I was enrolled in Anchor Beach Charter School. Connor was in my math and science classes."

"So you're old classmates, then?" Clayton questions.

"Yes, and no," Connor jumps in, and they look to him.

He too takes a breath before continuing. "Jude and I were classmates, you're very much correct. But we were more than that. We were best friends, and eventually… we were boyfriends as well."

Clayton raises his eyebrows. Kyle's jaw drops. Noah squeezes my hand tightly. And I… well; I just wait for the inevitable hurricane to come.

"You… dated Connor Stevens?" Kyle wonders aloud, turning to me.

"Yes," I confirm. "He was my best friend, and my first ever relationship."

Kyle's eyes light up. "That's awesome!" he says. "Now, I can say that one of my father's knew one of the best pitchers in the MLB way back when."

"Well, I don't know about one of the best…" Connor cuts in, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.

"Stats don't lie," Kyle argues.

There's nothing Connor can say to that, really. Soon, silence settles over the kitchen once again, before another voice breaks it.

"So, what happened?" Clayton asks.

"Excuse me?" Connor questions.

He turns toward Connor. "You and my dad aren't together anymore," he states plainly. "I'm just curious as to what happened."

I can see Connor tense up. It's clearly not a comfortable subject for him, and I'm in the same boat.

"It's none of your business, son," Noah speaks up, surprising me. "What happened between your father and Mr. Stevens is between the two of them, and no one else."

"Thank you," I say quietly.

Noah just nods, and I turn my attention back to my kids. In the corner of my eye, I see Connor visibly relax.

"Your father is right, you guys," I agree. "What happened between Connor and I is something that will stay between the two of us. It's really not important for you to know that."

They pout, but move on once they realize that I'm not budging. Clayton extends his hand to Connor.

"I'm sorry about that," he says. "I just let my curiosity get the better of me. I'm Clayton Adams-Foster, it's nice to meet you."

Connor smiles, and meets Clayton halfway in the handshake. "It's nice to meet you too, Clayton."

A split second later, he eyes Kyle. "You already know who I am," he says with a laugh. "But, I don't believe the two of us have been properly introduced, have we?"

Kyle just shakes his head, looking decidedly more nervous than I've seen him in years.

"I'm Connor Stevens, pitcher for San Diego, it's nice to meet you," Connor smiles, extending his hand towards Kyle, who grips it like a vice.

Thankfully, Connor doesn't wince.

"I'm Kyle Adams-Foster," Kyle tells him finally. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but last I checked, you pitched for LA."

"Got traded today," Connor explains.

Kyle nods, seemingly accepting of that response. "Can I get an autograph?" he asks shyly.

"Of course," Connor allows. "Provided you have something for me to sign."

Kyle runs to his room, and comes back with his glove, and jersey on.

"You trying to take my job, Kyle?" Connor jokes, seeing my son decked out in baseball gear.

"Maybe," Kyle smirks.

Connor laughs. It's deep, rich and full, and it sends butterflies fluttering into my stomach.

I watch as he takes the ball from Kyle's mitt and signs it, doing the same with the glove and the jersey.

Kyle stares at Connor's signature in awe, before looking to my ex with absolute reverence. "Thank you," he says.

Connor reaches out and ruffles his hair. "You're welcome, Kyle," he replies. "Maybe you and I'll be teammates one of these days."

"I hope so!" Kyle enthuses. "Any advice?"

Connor's face twists into a thoughtful expression. I feel Noah tense up beside me, not knowing what Connor will say. I'll admit to being curious too. I can no longer read him as well as I used to, so I have no clue what'll come out of his mouth right now.

After a few moments, Connor speaks again.

"Stay in school, work hard and don't believe the hype," he advises, and I can feel Noah relax beside me.

I squeeze his hand gently, and he gives me a grateful smile in return.

Connor looks to the two of us questioningly. I give him a thumbs up. He handled that question perfectly.

He smiles softly, and I can see him relax. I can't help but notice just how peaceful he looks in contrast to just a few moments ago, where he was the epitome of tension.

' _Stop it Jude!'_ I scold myself internally. _'You're married! To Noah, your amazing husband. You have two amazing sons. Now is not the time to be ogling your ex.'_

That internal monologue snaps me from my reverie, and I tune back into the situation.

I see Connor look down at his watch, before looking back up.

"I should get going," he announces. "I have to go check into my hotel."

I feel a pang in my chest at those words. Now that he's found his way back into my life, however unexpectedly, I don't want him to just waltz out for another 10 years.

Kyle seems to share a lesser variation of my sentiment. "But you just got here!" he whines.

"I know," Connor admits. "But, it is getting late, I've had a busy day, and it was a long drive up here. I'm pretty tired."

"You'll come back though, won't you?" Kyle questions.

"I can't promise you that," Connor says honestly. "It was kind of an unscheduled visit tonight, anyways."

Kyle looks down, clearly disheartened. I see a conflicted look cross Connor's face momentarily, before he announces.

"You can be my guest at Spring Training, if you want."

Kyle's head snaps up, eyes bugging out. "Are you… serious?" he asks.

"Of course," Connor says. "That is, if it's alright with your Dads, and one of them accompanies you."

Kyle looks at us hopefully. "Please, Dads, can we go?"

I look to Noah, who looks somewhat tense, but shrugs.

I look at my son, and then my ex, and heave a sigh.

"Looks like the two of us are going to Spring Training, Kyle," I inform him.

"YES!" he cheers, rushing to hug me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He runs out of the room promptly and I smile at his enthusiasm, before turning my attention to Connor.

"That was very generous," I say. "Thank you. He's been wanting to go to Spring Training for a while now."

"I'm sorry I just offered the tickets without asking," Connor responds. "He just looked so down, and I thought it would cheer him up, which it obviously did, but if you're not comfortable with it…"

"It's fine," I say quickly. "His happiness at going more than outweighs any lingering awkwardness between the two of us, don't you agree?"

"I do," Connor nods, before looking down at his watch. "It's been great to see you again, Jude, but I really wasn't kidding about having to leave."

"It's been nice to see you again, too, Connor," I reply. "Can I walk you out?"

"I'd like that," he says.

I nod, and push out my chair, standing up. "Shall we, then?" I question.

He follows me as I lead him into the foyer. He shrugs into his jacket, and puts on his shoes, before standing and addressing me one more time.

"I meant what I said in there, Jude," he tells me. "It really was great to see you."

"Likewise, Connor," I agree. "You always talked about being a professional baseball pitcher, and here you are. I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you," he says, a blush coloring his cheeks.

I resist the urge to find it adorable.

"I'll see you in Arizona?" I question.

"I'll see you in Arizona!" he confirms.

I open the door for him and he steps out into the chill of the night. "Take care, Connor."

"You too, Jude," he says.

I close and lock the door. My heart beats fast against my rib cage.

' _Did that just happen?'_

* * *

 **AN #2:** So there we have it! Hopefully it was worth the wait, and I'll try to be much more consistent going forward. Let me know what you thought, and what you'd like to see happen. Any and all ideas are very much welcome and appreciated.

Until next time,

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**


	4. Chapter 3

**You Still Look the Way You Used To**

 **WritingIsLoveAndLife**

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 **AN:** I'm back with a new chapter of this story! I'm in the process of updating all my stories with new chapters, so that's exciting. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and all of the new chapters that I have planned.

I've had two reviews posted to the last chapter since I published it, so I'll answer those now:

 **Shin-X 25 (Guest):** Yes, finally a new chapter! I'm so glad you're finding this story interesting, and I hope you like where I'll be taking it as we move forward.

Thank you for the review, I really appreciate it!

 **Guest:** I agree that they would've stayed together had Connor not moved to LA, but the fact is that it happened, and the two of them broke up as a result. I wanted to explore the idea of what would happen if the two of them had moved on, only to find themselves back in each other's lives, and that's how the story was first conceptualized.

I hope you have enjoyed the story so far, and that you'll continue to enjoy it as we move forward. Thank you for the review!

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 **Disclaimer:** Peter Paige and Bradley Bredeweg created _The Fosters_. I claim no ownership of the series, or its characters. I merely respect the series and wish to pay tribute to it, while continuing to sharpen my writing skills. The only characters that I do claim ownership of are my OC's: Clayton Adams-Foster and Kyle Adams-Foster, as well as any further OC's I wish to insert into this story in the future.

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 **Chapter 3**

The morning after my visit with Jude, I drive into the ballpark for the first time as a "Home" player and not an "Away" one.

I'm met in the parking garage by a professionally dressed man, who introduces himself to me, as Will, the head of public relations for the team.

"Welcome to San Diego!" he greets, extending his hand to me. "We're very excited to have you."

"I'm excited to be here," I say honestly, meeting him halfway for a handshake. "If only you knew how many ballgames I used to watch in this stadium when I was growing up."

"I have an idea," he chuckles. "And that's not to mention all the games you've played and watched in this stadium as a player."

"Those too," I nod. "Coming here has always felt like coming home."

"I'm glad," Will says, flashing me a smile. "Because we plan on this being your home for many years to come."

That thought eases my nerves slightly. This is the last season of my contract that I signed with LA, and to hear that my new club plans to keep me around past this season is immensely reassuring, even if it was almost a given anyway, with the prospects they gave up to acquire me.

"Well," I reply. "I plan to be here for many years to come, and help this team win, so it looks like our interests are aligned."

"Indeed," Will nods, and I follow him as he escorts me through the parking garage and to an elevator.

Stepping inside, he begins to brief me on what will happen today.

"I'm taking you to meet with the Owner, and the General Manger, and then we'll have an introductory press conference. I'd imagine some of the existing players have already reached out to you, but we'll also have you meet with the manager and the pitching coach today, so that you can all get on the same page, and the pitching coach can put you on an appropriate conditioning program so that you'll be ready for Spring Training."

"Sounds good," I agree. "Can I also ask for a favor?"

"Anything," Will says immediately.

"I need you to get me two sets of VIP spring training tickets, if you can."

"I'll talk to the Ticketing department, and get those for you," he assures me. "Anything else?"

I shake my head. "That's all."

The elevator dings, and we step out, walking through the executive offices, until we stop at the GM's office.

"You ready?" Will asks.

"Born ready," I confirm.

He laughs, and twists the handle.

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Whew, what a chaotic, yet satisfying day. My introductory press conference was pretty standard, even with San Diego really playing up the "Hometown Hero" angle.

After that, I met with the manager and pitching coach as scheduled and we discussed my role, and training regimen. I even managed to throw a bullpen session, and felt really strong. Hopefully, after a few more, I'll be ready to take the mound come Spring Training.

Thinking of Spring Training brings my mind back to Jude, and my promise to his son Kyle.

I smile, thinking of how happy I made the kid. That I can bring that kind of joy to fans is one of the many reasons I love my job.

He and Jude will be front and centre to see me pitch, and I intend to deliver a good performance.

I shrug out of my suit jacket and sprawl out on the bed, letting myself finally relax after a busy day.

The serenity doesn't last long, as the ringtone of my phone cuts through the air, demanding my attention.

I groan and roll over, plucking it from the side table. I answer it without looking at the Caller ID. "Hello?"

"Connor Stevens!" a voice starts. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Huh?" I question. "What are you talking about?"

"Forget what I'm talking about, do you even know who your talking to?" the voice responds.

I rack my brain, trying to connect the voice with a name. A few seconds pass before I sit straight up. "Taylor!" I exclaim.

"Got it in one, superstar!" she laughs. "That said, my question still stands: What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Would you like to explain why I got a phone call from Jude who sounded completely freaked out?"

"I kind of surprised him tonight…" I admit. "

"And you thought that was a good idea?" she asks incredulously.

"I had to see him, Taylor," I counter.

"And you thought the best way to go about that was to show up unexpectedly at his door late at night?" she retorts.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I snap.

"We have this wonderful thing called social media," she bites back. "I trust you know how to use it."

"Bite me," I tell her. "Would he even have given me the time of day if I sent him a message on a social network?"

Her silence says it all. He wouldn't have.

"I thought so," I inform her.

"I didn't say anything!" she argues.

"You didn't have to," I laugh. "Your silence has always said it all."

She laughs too. "Touché, Connor Stevens," he says. "But seriously, what are you planning?"

"Nothing," I say earnestly. "I just wanted to see him. We had a nice visit. I invited his family to Spring Training. That's all."

"It better be!" Taylor says darkly. "It took Jude a long time to get over you, you know? It took longer for him to really get serious about Noah, and they have a good life now. I was the maid of honor at their wedding."

"He seemed to move on pretty quickly," I tell her.

"Are you really that thick, Connor?" she questions. "He seemed to move on quickly, because that is what he WANTED you to believe."

Any response I could've possibly offered loses itself in my throat at that. I settle for a sharp intake of breath, and a soft "What?"

"He wanted you to believe he had moved on, Connor," Taylor says, her anger fading. "He thought you had moved on, and he didn't want to hold you back, so he made it seem like he was over you at the time."

"You say at the time, but did he ever really get over me?" I ask.

"It depends which Jude you ask," Taylor admits. "Sober Jude would tell you he absolutely did, and can even tell you the day. Drunk Jude however…"

"Damn it!" I curse. "It seems I have much more to apologize for than I first realized."

"It would appear," Taylor agrees. "Listen, this has been fun, but I need to go now. Don't be a stranger, superstar."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Taylor," I assure her.

"Good luck with your upcoming season!" she says.

"Thanks," I reply.

And with that, she's gone, and I'm left grappling with myself.

It's quite clear I have to apologize, but how on Earth do you apologize to your ex for them not being able to get over you? Especially if they have to be drunk to even admit that much.

' _Is that something you even do?'_ I wonder internally. ' _Do I even want to do that?'_

I guess I can forget about a good night's sleep tonight…

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 **AN #2:** And there we have it! What did you think? What do you think will happen? What do you want to happen? I'm going to try and get the next chapter done quickly for you, but I'm also working on my other stories too. Thanks for reading, everyone!

Until next time,

 **WrititingIsLoveAndLife**


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